31 Days
by She-Poe
Summary: Its Zutara Month.
1. Relief

Relief

She was breathless.

Fear crept up her spine. Anxiety trickled down her arms and came to rest in he fingertips. Her head spun. Her mind was in a drug-induced fog. _"Drink this_," they'd said. "_It'll help with the pain." _She should have known better. She knew that she needed to be in her right mind. But the pain—she had no idea that anything would ever hurt so bad. She cursed herself for being so weak.

_She thought that after a year of marriage, they would have been able to move past these arguments. He just didn't understand. She hated bloodbending just as much as he did. And here he was, yet again, blaming her, hating her, because she'd used it once...years ago._

She tried to blink away the fuzziness; blinked so hard that her nose scrunched up. Everything kept going out of focus. And she was beyond frustrated.

_Her husband didn't understand, but she knew someone who did: the man that she had shared so much pain with. They had grieved together. They'd held each other and cried together. They understood each other._

She tried to sit up, but a pair of strong hands pressed her shoulders back against the pillow and held her there. She fought against him with every bit of strength she had left in her, but his voice came gently to her ears. "Katara, you have to lay down."

_But one night, while her husband and his wife were asleep, and they had come together to talk about things, they let themselves slip away._

An exasperated sigh burst from her lungs in protest. His face was blurred, but she knew that he must be giving her _that_ look; the one he always gave her when he was disappointed in her. She hated that!

_She kissed him first. _

She heard a cry; a pitiful sound, really, coming from a new set of lungs. She yelped back, and the hands on her shoulders gave her a squeeze.

_His hands pressed against her._

"We have a daughter!" He whispered, and kissed her forehead.

"_We shouldn't do this," she whispered, exhilarated, not wanting to stop._

In a blur, she saw them carrying her baby away. Panic swept through her. "I have to see her!" She cried. "Let me see her!"

"_I have to go," she told him as she put on her night dress._

They handed her the baby, tiny and pink and warm. She shook her head, again trying to clarify her vision. "Hi baby," she whispered, her heart fluttering.

_She'll never forget the look in his eyes as she left him._

"Look at Mama," She sighed. The baby opened her eyes.

_His eyes were gold._

Her eyes were gray. Katara breathed a sigh of relief.


	2. Luminous

Luminous

"Katara!" His voice came in a rough whisper from the other side of her door. Katara sat up in bed and glanced out the window. The moon was high and bright. What could he possibly want? She dragged herself out of bed and over to her door, rubbing her eyes. As she opened the door, she was greeted by a dark body and a face lit by the soft glow of a hand-held flame. He was smiling.

"Zuko, what are you doing?" She whispered angrily. "Its the middle of the night."

"Exactly." His eyes flashed with excitement. "C'mon. I have to show you something." He reached for her hand but she pulled it away.

"I'll come with you. But don't touch me."

"Fine. But you have to keep up."

He led her through the house and across the porch; through the high beach grass and into the sand. She questioned every moment of it; no more so than when he let the flame dissipate from his palm. Her back was turned to the ocean, and the light from the moon was blocked by the trees. He stopped, and she followed suit, just short of where the waves met the sand. "Do you trust me?" He asked.

She thought for a moment, pursed her lips. "Of course..." she whispered hesitantly.

"Then close your eyes."

"What?" She asked, giving him a look of concern.

"Just do it!" He laughed.

She closed her eyes and felt his hand encircle her wrist. _ Well. There goes the no touching thing. _She thought with annoyance. He told her to watch her step, and that she shouldn't worry, because he wouldn't let her fall. As they climbed a set of wooden steps, she found herself reaching to him with her other hand, which came to rest on his arm. The steps flattened out into a sort of floor, how wide, how long, and how high it was, she couldn't tell. He led her a few more paces forward then let go of her wrist and stood behind her. The wind, thick with salt, blew through her hair and sent a chill down her spine. "Open your eyes," Zuko whispered, his breath tickling her ear.

Before Katara's eyes was miles of water, dotted with dull green lights. They weren't from ships or buildings, but they were _in_ the water. "What are they?" She asked, her eyes fixed on the lights.

"They're jellyfish," he explained. "They migrate here once a year. I remembered looking at them from here with my father when I was little an-" he paused, creating a brief, awkward silence and bit his lip.

The two of them stood there overlooking the ocean and all of its glowing creatures, each thinking of something different. _Someone_ different. A different time. A different place. And then, for a split second, their minds both touched on a memory, one they'd shared together an eternity ago beneath a fallen city in a crystal cavern that glowed that same eerie shade of green. They looked at each other, knowing that they were both back there, in that moment when they saw each other clearly for the first time; when they were on common ground—or under it as it were. She could see the shame in his eyes. He could see the sadness in hers.


	3. Potential

Potential

Most mornings, she was the first one up. She would make her way through the house, often taking time to stop and look at the gold family portraits. Despite knowing exactly who each person in the portrait was, and despite knowing what each one o them had done, she couldn't help but smile. She couldn't help but think of her own family.

She sighed and then turned the corner into the kitchen to get started with breakfast. What her eyes fell upon could be best described as nothing short of total carnage. Cupboards were open, draws were pulled out of the counters, there was flour spilled on the floor, dirty pots in the sink a tea kettle screaming on the stove , and a very frustrated firebender in the middle of it all.

Before she could stop herself, she smiled. And that smile soon turned into a chuckle. Zuko spun around at the sound of her laugh, his face red aside from a white streak of flour that had found its way onto his cheek. "K—I—I was going to clean it up. I just thought that I could..." He stopped mid-sentence as she walked over to the sick and wet a cloth. She sighed, pursed her lips, and turned to him—rag in hand. He flinched, expecting her to hell at him, but she instead gently dabbed the cloth against his cheek. He stared at her, his heart racing.

"You've got potential," she smiled.


End file.
